


In Your Arms

by straightforwardly



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Established Relationship, Extra Treat, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 11:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12506372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightforwardly/pseuds/straightforwardly
Summary: Lalli isn’t there at dinner. Emil seeks him out.





	In Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiraly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/gifts).



> Optional: [here’s](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-Rpa9TeKGc) what I listened to while writing this, in case you wanted appropriate background music as you read. 
> 
> Kiraly, I hope you meant it when you said that it wasn't possible for a fic to be too fluffy!

There was no light in the room, nor any sign of movement. Emil carefully closed the door behind him, wincing as it let out a sharp creak. He set his weaponry and a chunk of pilfered bread down on the table, and crept over to the bed. 

He’d wondered why he hadn’t seen Lalli at dinner; now he had his answer. Lalli lay where Emil had left him in the morning, curled up against the wall on their bed. He was deep asleep. 

Emil couldn’t blame him for sleeping in. Lalli had been working long hours the past week, ranging into difficult, dangerous territory and returning each morning dirtied and exhausted. Even now, there was a healing scratch running down his cheek. 

As he watched, a twitching shudder rippled down Lalli’s body like a wave. Another followed, and Lalli let out a low moan. Emil still didn’t quite get the whole mage-dreaming thing, but he understood enough to know that it was more than just unpleasant dreams haunting Lalli when he got like this. 

And he knew, too, how to help. Shucking off his shoes and coat, Emil crawled into bed with him, taking him into his arms. He ran his hand up and down Lalli’s back in soothing circles, watching as the tension in Lalli’s face leaked away again. 

Lalli opened his eyes.

“Hey,” Emil whispered. He lifted one of his hands, brushing some of Lalli’s bangs back from his face. A few strands stayed back, sticking stubbornly to his skin. “Sleep well?”

“Mhn.” Lalli leaned in, burying his nose into Emil’s collarbone, looking as though he were still half-asleep. But when he spoke, he sounded fully alert. “When did you get back?”

Emil continued carding his fingers through Lalli’s hair. “Just now. But you missed dinner. I brought you some bread if you’re hungry.” It was the only thing he could bring with him; the mess workers got surprisingly snippy when people took dishware out of the mess area. Emil had no idea why. “Or I think we still have some sweets stashed around somewhere, if you’d like that better.”

Lalli shook his head. “It’s my night off,” he said. Then, while Emil was processing that apparent non-sequitur, he pressed his mouth deliberately against the underside of Emil’s jaw. Emil’s pulse jumped, and he felt Lalli’s mouth curve upwards against his skin.

Secretly, there was a part of Emil that was still surprised every time Lalli initiated anything, that couldn’t quite believe that this was real and that Lalli wanted him. That Lalli _still_ wanted him, even after they started sharing a common tongue, even after he started being able to understand every hamfisted thing that managed to spill out of Emil’s mouth. 

So, of course, Emil had to respond by opening his mouth and saying, too loudly, “You know, some people would have made a joke about there being something else they’d rather eat.”

Immediately, he wanted to hit himself. Then Lalli drew back, giving him a blank-faced look, and he wanted to hit himself even more. Right. Idioms. Still not a thing Lalli had much of a grasp on, though his Swedish had gotten to be pretty good otherwise. Better than Emil’s Finnish, at the very least. 

“Nevermind,” he said quickly. “Just—forget I said that, please?”

Lalli gave him a strange look—ugh, he was thinking about how weird Emil was being, wasn’t he?—but then he complied, cupping the back of Emil’s head, and drawing him into a kiss. Emil sank in, any remaining thoughts about his own stupidly soon fleeing in favor of savoring Lalli’s mouth, the way he relaxed into him, warm and pliant and content. 

It was a very long time before either of them thought about dinner again.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if that joke could be made in Swedish or not (probably not), but let’s pretend it can, okay?


End file.
